


Everything I Wanted

by HopefulAddictions



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Angst, POV First Person, Sad Oikawa Tooru, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21695656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopefulAddictions/pseuds/HopefulAddictions
Summary: This was what I wanted, I prayed for this, begged for this. But it hurts and cuts me more than any blade every could.Oikawa Tooru prayed to every god he could, begged them to give him one last chance to see Iwaizumi again. They granted his prayer but it hurts more than he thought it would.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 16
Kudos: 33





	Everything I Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> This is written in first person, from Oikawa's point of view.

Tan hands, worn and calloused from past years of hard work in a gym, now soft and thin from time spent in a white sterile room. They are easily recognizable through touch alone. Fingers now longer and boney, the skin stretching over the bones and fitting snug against them; I know these hands as I know my own. 

They are gentle, a contrast to the brutish man they belong to. Words and fingers are caressing me ever so softly; fingers in my hair and a soft command to sleep. 

“I can’t.” I call out just as softly, my eyes are closed and they feel heavy. The hands feel cold, but I know them well. My voice is quiet, the force behind my words dwindling and burning out like a flame in a winter storm. 

There is movement and then soft lips on my cheek, fingers brushing the hair away from my forehead. “You can.” the voice is barely audible but I can still hear it. I feel like I might cry. I missed his voice and I had prayed to hear it again. It seems as though my prayers were answered, because there is no physical way I would be able to hear his voice once more. I must be dreaming, that is the only logical way to explain this situation. 

“Just let go.” the voice instructs again and the idea of sleeping is very tempting, but I hold on. I don't want to miss this opportunity because I don't think it will ever come again. When I laid down, my head had been resting against a pillow, but now I feel as though my head is on his lap once again. A wave of nostalgia is hitting me, crashing down and drowning me in its overwhelming feeling. I have missed this.

“I don’t want to.” the reply is a simple one, but there is desperation in my tone. Suddenly I’m being taken back to a time I would rather forget. Taken back to the day where I was curled up on the floor, wailing and sobbing as if that could bring him back from his white room, his sterile tomb. 

The voice hushes me softly, gently, and I can feel a tear leak from my closed eyes. I can’t tell if this is a blessing or a curse. It’s bittersweet and it hurts but I don't think I would trade anything for this. “Shittykawa, you can’t stay awake.” Another tear escapes me and I can feel a sob building in my chest like a balloon. 

It was never a nice nickname, but one that has been around for years. It took on a sort of endearing context at some point, at a first glance it appears to be an insult, but I never minded it. Now, just hearing it hurts more. 

“I-I’ve missed you.” I whisper because my voice is shaking and I don’t want to be too loud. Everyday I have missed these soft hands and gentle words. It feels like a stab through my heart but I am so grateful for it. His hand moves from my hair to my cheek, caressing it softly just like he used to. 

“I know.” 

I want to see him so badly, but I won’t open my eyes in fear that it will shatter this dream and he will disappear. If I pause for a moment, let myself feel his touch and hear his words, I can almost pretend like nothing ever happened and it’s just like the good days. But reality is a cruel thing and I can’t pretend for long.

Those warm sunny days are over and my world is gray and void of color, winter is here and the clouds have covered up the sun leaving me cold to my very core.

I’m shivering and nothing brings me warmth. He was the sun and I basked and bathed in his glory and light. 

The warmth and heat he provided was better than any flame or heater ever could. 

I breathe through my nose, exhaling heavily while I clutch my blanket. I don't trust my mouth or my breath. My lip is quivering and if I exhaled, my breath would be shaky and my body would tremble from the weight of the emotions I carry. The blanket was supposed to keep me warm but it does nothing, not anymore. I try though, to breathe in through my mouth, but my body betrays me and I shudder, a small noise leaving my throat on the exhale. My eyelashes are wet and I want to let out a cry, but I don’t. I can't.

I have always been emotional; secret tears in hazelnut eyes that don’t fall until left alone.

“I’m sorry.” I can’t help but apologize because this is the only chance I have to say what I have wanted to. He hums, and it sounds like a question. For what? He is silently asking and I am quietly crying. It’s hard to talk but I swallow and manage to get the words out. “I broke our promise. You told me not to cry, b-but I couldn’t keep it.” He says nothing and I want to say more, so I do. 

“Why would you make me promise that? I have broken it over and over again. You’re such an idiot for making me promise.” I’m crying now and my chest is constricting, begging me to let out a noise, to break down the dam I have built up to hold back the raging river of my emotions and tears. He wipes away my tears but it’s useless. The dam has cracked and it’s leaking now; I’m unable to stop it. 

I know he made the promise because he hates seeing me cry, and I feel bad but I can’t hold it back anymore. I have missed him so much and the tears won’t stop. “I know I’m an idiot for making you promise, but you know how much I hate seeing you cry, especially over me. You’re an ugly crier, Shittykawa.” Of course I would cry over him, he really is an idiot if he thinks I wouldn’t cry over losing him. 

He always called me an ugly crier and I know he is right. My eyes get all red and puffy and I look sick and swollen. I can feel my eyes start to open, I want to see him. Quickly, he puts a hand over them whispering softly, sadly,

“Don’t.” I have really missed his voice. My eyes don’t open, and his hand stays there, almost as if he is worried that I’ll open them. 

If I open them, I wonder if I could see his face, but I don’t dare disobey and instead choose to keep my eyes closed tight. He removes his hand slowly and goes back to running his fingers through my hair, both of us silent. Sleep is creeping up on me and I fight it, despising the idea of drifting off into the night when he is finally here with me. 

Sleep hasn’t come easily to me like it used to, not since he left. I used to be able to fall asleep so easily, so peacefully, in his arms, but now I barely get any proper rest. 

I sleep but I do not rest, I do not dream often, and when I do, he is there. That’s why I think this might be a dream, because how else would I be able to feel him? It’s painful; my body remembering his touch and urging me to sleep like I used to, relaxing in his presence. Is it muscle memory? My heart is a muscle and it surely remembers him; I don’t think it would ever forget him. 

My body remembers his touch and the safety that came with being in his arms. His fingers are ever so gentle in their soft caresses, and my heart is breaking all over again. My tears have stopped flowing, but the current of emotions are still taking me away with them. It’s quiet, and I’m enjoying the feeling of him with me; the soft strokes through my hair comforting me like always. 

I think he is playing with my hair because he knows it makes me fall asleep, and I can't help but also think that he is being cruel by doing that. 

It has been so long since I last saw him, so why is he trying to make me sleep? 

“I don’t want to fall asleep, I miss you so much and I don’t want to let go.” My voice cracked near the end and I could feel the tug and pull behind my eyes, the pressure building up as to warn me that I’ll start crying again. My window is cracked open and I can feel the breeze crawling into my room. It’s cold, and he isn’t warm and I’m terrified of losing him again. “I just want you to stay.” I plead, the urge to open my eyes is becoming unbearable. 

“I never left you.” His voice is just like how I remember it to be, soft when whispering sweet things to me, but a bit rough in its own way, it’s a soothing blanket that wraps around my mind and heart. He is the calm in my storm and I can’t lose him again. 

I am the high speed winds that tear down trees, waves that slam against rocks, the torrent of rain that makes it difficult to see, and he is the calm sea and lazy waves that bring peace and comfort. 

Everything is wrong now that he isnt by my side. Everything feels off and nothing is the same. Everywhere I look i get reminded of him and I wish it would stop, but at the same time I love it. I dont want to forget him, I cant forget him. All I'm left with are memories of him, his cologne, stupidly adorable Godzilla merchandise, and an empty spot in our bed.

But then, I feel something strange, a mix of anger and indescribable sadness. My brows scrunch up and furrow, words spilling from my lips before I have any control of them.

“But you did. You did leave me and I miss you every day. You left me and I can’t bear it.” There are more hot tears streaming down my cheeks and the room feels colder as my voice cracks along my words. I hear a sigh and the hands don’t leave my hair. He was always able to easily handle my anger, my tidal waves of emotions. 

“You’re right. I left you physically, and for that I’m sorry. But, I promise you that since then, I never left your side. I have always been here, and I always will be.” 

I can't help but wonder if that is true. If it is, how come I haven’t seen him until now? More cries tumble out of my heart and mouth and I can hear soft shushing and his gentle touch. He has always been weak to me when I cry or pout. I don't know how long I have been lying here, but I do know that if I could, I’d lay here forever. I miss him and his warmth and all the colors he had brought into my life. 

I was blind and he lit up my world, taught me how to see, and showed me all the wonderful colors in it. Does he know how much of a tragedy I have become? I was always a walking disaster, held back and kept at bay, silently splitting at the seams, but now I am caught up in my own storm and I am helpless to it.

“Go to sleep, Tooru. I’m not leaving.” I ask him if he promises to stay, and he agrees. Sleep is calling for me, wrapping its hands around me and dragging me down. I don’t think I can fight it any longer. I give in, my body relaxes under his touch and I slowly start to drift. This was something familiar, falling asleep with him. What was different was that this time, my head isn't against his chest, and if it was, I don't know if I would hear a heartbeat. 

There was a gentle kiss on my forehead, then against my lips, and a murmur of something I have desperately begged to hear again. “I love you, I always have and I always will.” I inhale sharply and reply that I love him too and I don't ever want to let him go. Once was already too many times. 

I love him and it hurts, I love him and it’s bliss, I love him and I have to keep telling him. Keep telling him what goes on in my heart, every beat and stutter; keep telling him because this is my second chance and I do love him. I love him so very much. 

“I love you, Hajime.”

Love is a fickle thing, as are all emotions. In stories and movies you hear about the happiness that comes with love, but you rarely ever hear about the pain that comes with it as well. A double edged sword that cuts down every heart in sight; it is true that love conquers all because it has conquered me and I am left in ruin.

I don’t regret loving, and I never will. Loving him was the best thing I have ever done and I would never change it. As painful as the happy memories are, I am glad I experienced them. I don’t know who I would be if I didn’t end up loving him and if he hadn’t loved me in return.

As that old poem goes, it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. 

Falling in love is something told to be magical and for the most part, it truly is. I only learned what falling in love was when I experienced it with him. I only realized what the term falling in love meant when I realized that I had fallen for him. It is a melody that you can’t help but dance to, and if you think about it, falling in love is something every person desires. I didn’t know I was falling for him until it was too late. 

When did I start to want to hear ‘Tooru’ instead of ‘Oikawa’ or some other nickname? When did I want to start saying ‘Hajime’ instead of ‘Iwaizumi’? (Iwa-chan is something that will always stick around.) I think it happened without my knowledge.

He was at first sweeping me off my feet in the most unconventional manner; rough but strangely sweet words that wrapped around my mind and heart. It left me confused as to what I was feeling, I had never felt a love like this before and it was new and it was exciting; it was terrifying. (Falling for your best friend is never an easy ordeal.) He swept me off my feet and I started to trip over myself because of the unbalance; I had realized I was starting to love him. As a result of my unbalance, I started to fall.

Faster and harder, I start to fall more in love with him. 

Everything is going by fast and all I can do is hold my heart in my hands and hope that he will catch me because if he doesn’t, I know I will shatter the moment my body hits the floor. But, at least that shattered heart would be able to get repaired. It would have been easier if he didn’t love me in return.

My heart would be broken, but fixable. Though, things didn’t work out like that and I don’t regret it. I don’t regret it but I wish I didn’t feel this pain because now, now my heart is truly shattered. 

I am nothing without him. My world is gray and my heart is broken beyond repair. Living in a world without him is like living without air; I can’t breathe and I need him to fill my lungs. He fills and completes me with his love, a feeling so warm that the possibility of feeling empty or alone was a thought far from my mind. It seemed impossible and yet here I am, wishing on every star and praying to every god that I can see him again.

The possibility of Iwaizumi Hajime not being in my life was something I laughed at. I thought he would always be there. He was a constant in my life, so why would that leave? Why would it disappear? He was always there, and I could never picture him anywhere else. I wish I could have prepared myself somehow, because now that he is gone, I am nothing more than a shattered mess of a person.

He provided a comfort I did not know I needed, supplied me with a love greater than any I have ever felt. I am cold and the sun does nothing for me; it taunts me with its warmth but it could never be compared to him.

I know I can be dependant, especially dependant on things or people that make me feel safe. I know I can also be manipulative, but he never seemed to care. (Aside from the comments on my shitty personality here and there.) I had many walls built up and he managed to climb over all of them. I gave in, I trusted him, depended on him. 

I laid my weapons down, put down my defenses, and surrendered to his love. I feel like if I hadn't grown so dependant on him, I wouldn’t be hurting so much now, but that thought is foolish. I have known him all my life and of course I trust him, I always have. But trusting someone platonically and trusting someone with your whole heart are two very different things. But now that I think about it, I’m glad I let him in. 

If I hadn’t trusted him, then I would never have fully loved him and that is a crime I never want to commit. But now he is gone and I’m exhausted and tired of feeling this ache in my soul; a part of me was ripped away when he left. I need him because he made me feel safe and okay.

Now I don’t have that anymore.

He filled the hole in my heart, in my soul, but then he left. He left and he is gone and now all that is left is a bigger hole that can never be filled. Nothing can replace what he gave me, and nothing can replace what I have lost.

In an act of hopefulness driven by loss, I opened my eyes, wanting just one glimpse of the one I love. I needed to see him before I gave in to exhaustion. 

Then, for a brief moment, I could see all the colors that had faded to gray when he faded from my life. My world was filled with warmth that I have craved and missed, and for a brief moment, I felt okay. Splashes of yellow mixed with blue and then there was a rainbow in my eyes. My heart felt like it was going to burst. I didn't see him, I didn't see the one I love, the one I lost, but I could see his colors.

Just as suddenly and quickly it came, the colors disappeared and my dull ceiling stared back at me, almost mockingly with those stick on glow in the dark stickers. Iwaizumi and I had put them up when we moved in together and began sharing one bed. We saw it as a sort of reminder of childhood memories, a reminder of where we began.

I remember putting them on my ceiling when I was 10 and then putting them on his ceiling despite the protests. He complained about them, but never took them down; and that was something that always gave me silent joy.

A gasp left my lips and then tears rolled and poured from my eyes. This was cruel, giving me a taste of what I had lost and then ripping it away. It was painful, but I couldn’t stay mad since I had wished for this. 

A wail bubbled up in my throat, demanding to be released. I wished I just kept my stupid eyes shut so I could enjoy his presence longer. This hurt almost as much as the day I lost him. Just like last time, memories flooded my head. Memories like polaroids, flashing like a recording. My mind was the projector and my eyes were displaying the images. 

I could see the things I had lost. Lazy days on the couch, laughter and silly little banter. Gentle kisses and caresses, whispers of sweet nothings and the promise of a ring. I breathed out, and with it came a cry. Pointless conversations we would never have, promises left unfulfilled, laughter that would now never be heard. All of it was gone, and I would never get it back. 

I rubbed my eyes, as if that would stop the tears. “Thank you.” I called out to no one, not sure if he could still hear me or if he was still here just like he promised. I couldn't see him or feel him any longer, and it hurt more than any blade ever could. 

He was here with me, and now he isn’t and I think the only thing I’m good at is crying. I was thankful that I could talk to him again, but heartbroken that it was now over. I can never be satisfied, I am always yearning for more; a sponge soaking up everything it can. My prayers were answered but I still felt empty, cold, and my world was still devoid of color. “I love you s-so much and I will see you again one day,” I promised, I swore. 

My life has turned into that of a tragedy, a sad love story that has no happy ending. I wonder if this could make a good Shakespeare play, it seems to have everything needed. There is no happy ending for me, not in this life, I am sure of it. The happy ending would come after the epilogue, after the end credits have rolled by and it would be bliss.

I didn’t get a happily ever after so the least I can be given is a happy ending, a small teaser or extra scene in the closing of this book. 

I had contemplated ending the show that was my life, just so I could see him again and get to my happy ending faster. But I know that he wouldn’t have wanted that. So I keep on living for him, though the quality of life isn’t as grand as he would wish for me.

I loved him, I still love him, and I wait for the day that I can see him and his colors again. If I was able to, I would have heard the reply he gave me, If I was able to, I would have still felt his touch. 

“I’ll be waiting patiently, and I’ll never leave your side.” 

My eyes slowly closed but my chest still wracked with quiet sobs, my cheeks still red and wet with trails of tears. I was exhausted and my brain was pounding from all the crying and emotions. Eventually, as I laid there, I could feel my body drifting and I let go, succumbing to the call of sleep. 

My last thought was that I hope this wasn’t a dream, but I knew I would remember it when I woke up to my gray world. I wonder if he could see me when he left this world in that disgustingly white and clean hospital room. It doesn’t matter now; I’m falling asleep and my thoughts are scattered. Still, there is one thing I can confidently say, one thing that has been on my mind as a theory, a sense of false hope. 

I have never been one to believe in ghosts, until now.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a personal assignment, but edited it later to fit iwaoi. This made me cry and I hope it made you feel something too. Tell me in the comments!


End file.
